The Uninvited
by Miss Shannon
Summary: As Sharon Raydor is targeted by an unknown foe, Andy Flynn finds himself struggling to define their relationship. [Raydor/Flynn]
1. One

**The  
**

**Uninvited**

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**Summary: **As Sharon Raydor is targeted by an unknown foe, Andy Flynn finds himself struggling to define their relationship. [Raydor/Flynn]

**A/N:** This chapter is M-ish, but not quite so I left it at T. If you're easily offended, just skip the little flashback. :)

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**O N E**

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If anyone had told him six months ago that he would be this frantic, he would have laughed. Now his facial muscles were so tight that they wouldn't have even been capable of producing a smile. Andy Flynn ignored his partner's exasperated shout and ducked under the crime scene tape before the uniformed officer had a chance to lift it for him. The blue lights flashing across the darkened street corner didn't bode well and neither did the smoke that was curling from the familiar silver car's hood towards the clear night sky. Andy didn't allow himself time to survey the severe damage to the car or to ponder the possible outcome. Instead he headed straight for the ambulance. The fact that it was sitting idly by the side of the road could either mean that the injuries could be treated in situ and didn't warrant a trip to the hospital or it could mean that there was no rush as the endangered life could no longer be saved. He could not tell which from where he was approaching the vehicle as it was parked with its bonnet facing the car wreck and therefore Andy.

He started weaving his way through the crime scene personnel and his fellow cops, ignoring their solemn greetings. The chatter around him seemed to blur into a distant humming at the edges of his mind. Humming, he thought. She was always humming.

_He was pinning her to the mattress while her nails were digging into his back, her eyes closed and her mouth open, emitting the most arousing sounds of pleasure. Andy was surprised every time he watched her get completely carried away. Sharon Raydor always seemed so uptight, so meticulous and rational, that he wouldn't have expected her to be able to fully lose herself in something as simple as sex. She moaned his name when he grabbed her leg and pushed it up slightly to thrust into her more deeply and then shifted her pelvis in order to get a better angle. Apparently, this angle worked well for her because only a few strokes later, a deep, guttural hum announced the fact that she was about to come. She panted his name and clung to him, her hands sliding across his sweaty back as she rocked her hips faster. He came just before she did and collapsed on top of her, not yet ready to break the contact. Sharon lay still for a moment while she caught her breath and then hummed again, moving against him to savor the contact. He lifted himself off her and looked into her flushed face, her mascara smudged around her eyes, her hair wild and tangled. He was just about to propose to her that they should do this again in a few minutes, when she sat up and thereby almost forced him off her, announcing the fact that she had to go._

Neither of them had showered so her scent still clung to his body when he rounded the ambulance in the suit he had carelessly thrown on when the call had come in.

"_Officer down_," the radio had crackled. "_Car accident... Severe damage..._"

He had listened quietly in his car, inwardly cursing the fact that Major Crimes was on call this weekend, when suddenly it had gone through him like a shock. The address that had been named was on Sharon's way home from his house, he realized, and caused Provenza to gasp and hold on to his car's dashboard when he pushed down the accelerator like a maniac.

He only realized how out of breath he was, when the sight of her hit him strangely unexpectedly. Sharon was sitting in the back of the ambulance, holding a cold pack to her temple, but looking otherwise unharmed. She had cleaned herself up after leaving his place, but she did look tousled in a way that didn't stem from a car accident. Looking up, her eyes met his and he quickly pushed his hands into his pockets in order to look nonchalant. Before he could say anything, a puffing sound announced Provenza's arrival. The old man staggered around the corner and sneered when he saw Sharon. Andy saw how he quickly assessed her condition and found her fit to be tormented.

"Women and cars," he said, pursing his lips. "And before you slap me with another disciplinary report, that's not misogyny, it's the hard truth."

Sharon growled deeply in her throat but didn't say anything.

"What the hell are we doing here, anyway?" Provenza droned on. "This is a traffic accident, not a major crime. Or do we need a full roll-out nowadays when FID's finest hits her head?"

Andy was beginning to get angry at his friend, but then he knew that Sharon wouldn't appreciate it if he defended her. She was very insistent that they strictly kept their private lives out of their working ones and he respected that. Provenza was suspicious enough of his new habit of leaving the office in a hurry and not being reachable on his phone or otherwise for several hours afterward. And his dash across the crime scene hadn't been his finest hour, either, so he needed to lay low for a while.

Sharon handed the cold pack back to the paramedic and rose to her feet. "You're here because this is an attempted murder, not a traffic accident," she said. "The brakes didn't work and I had them checked a couple of days ago."

"So you think someone did this to you on purpose?" Andy asked incredulously.

"Yes, genius. What did you think?" Provenza growled at him. As much as he despised FID officers in general and Captain Sharon Raydor in particular, he was a professional and was beginning to act as such. "I'll have a word with the traffic cops at the scene," he said. "Andy, you can babysit our victim." With that, he sauntered off, leaving Andy and Sharon in uncomfortable silence. They didn't see all that much of each other at work, which was an absolute blessing because lately it was becoming awkward to address her as Captain Raydor and not touch her.

"Are you okay?" he asked, worried that he would overstep their boundaries. Hers, really. Somehow they had never decided not to date. They had also never officially declared that they were having an affair even though it was just that. They met often, sometimes at her condo, sometimes at his house. They would have dinner, she would have two glasses of wine. Sometimes, though, they would skip dinner and she would cut right to the chase. Andy had had to awkwardly explain to several, mostly younger, women in his life that he wasn't interested in a serious relationship. With Sharon, it had never been an issue. They liked each other genuinely and they usually talked about everything and nothing for up to a few hours before they retreated to the bedroom. But it was a given every time they met up, that sex was the ultimate outcome. While they occasionally went out for a meal, they weren't actually going out on dates.

"My head hurts," Sharon replied, steadying herself against him with a hand as she slipped her shoe off. He could see now, that the delicate heel was broken and the look of grief in Sharon's eyes was almost comical. She was still wearing the clothes he had ripped off her just a few hours ago and it filled him with a strange sort of pride when he saw that the skirt was slightly crinkled where he had pushed it up earlier.

"I'm sorry about your shoes," he said stupidly and she just sighed in reply, paving the way for more of their awkward silence. He looked her up and down, the flashing blue lights illuminating her face for a second, then leaving it in the gloom for another. Andy wasn't sure what was happening to him, but then he just couldn't contain the words. It felt as if they were inside him, struggling to escape and he was unable to hold them in.

"Are you hurt, Sharon? Are you in pain?"

She stared at him for a moment, obviously taken-aback by the ferocity with which he had spoken. When they weren't in the act of having sex, they hardly ever kissed or touched and yet he found himself struggling not to reach out and crush her to his chest in relief that she wasn't dead or seriously injured.

"I told you I'm fine," she repeated, her voice quiet but firm. "If someone really cut my brakes, however, I am wondering whether it'll stay that way."

Her words, spoken with firm authority, were a barely disguised prompt for him to go and do his job, not fret over her and although this was just how they worked, he felt stung for the first time.

"Captain? Are you alright?"

Andy turned around at the male voice and found a sergeant standing there with a worried expression. Unsure why exactly he noticed this right now, Andy had to admit to himself the fact that the young man was extremely good-looking with his suntanned skin, a full head of chestnut brown hair and the physique of a high-school quarterback.

"Sergeant Martinez, I'm good, thanks," Sharon said in a pleasant, soft voice that he had never heard her use at work, but her subordinate didn't seem satisfied just yet and reached out to touch her arm.

"Do you want me to give you a ride home?"

Andy was both surprised and deeply ashamed when he had to admit that he was feeling extremely jealous. Sharon smiled and nodded while Andy took in the other man's tasteful suit and tie, trying to find fault in his appearance.

"Okay, Captain. I'll just clear this with the incident commander." The young man walked off and left Andy seething.

"Eager little guy," he said, unable not to sound condescending.

Sharon raised her brows. "That's the beautiful thing about the Professional Standards Bureau," she said. "Nobody likes us so we always take good care of each other."

Somehow that little statement managed to infuriate Andy even more. He didn't know why exactly, but he would have liked to drive Sharon home, to make sure she was alright and to stay up with her to watch her have a glass of wine and unwind. She didn't look upset, but that didn't mean that she wasn't. What had just transpired was that someone had made an attempt on her life and even though she had escaped unscathed, it didn't mean that this person wouldn't try again. Andy swallowed as the realization began to sink in. Who knew what awaited her at her condo? He looked at her and she caught his gaze, staring back defiantly.

He wanted to tell her that he was worried, wanted to offer her to take her home and stay the night, but somehow he was worried that she would wave him off, or worse, laugh.

"What?" she asked softly. "Something the matter?"

"No," he said, trying to recover from the onslaught of his sudden need for closeness. "I was just wondering who the hell would want to hurt you."

She gave a snort of laughter that didn't sound too amused. "Take your pick. I'm in IA, Andy. Everyone hates me."

He shook his head. "Will you stop saying that? We love to hate you, but we wouldn't want to see you hurt."

Although he had meant to put everyone's dislike in perspective, he could see that he had made a mistake. His words had just enforced the fact that she was an outsider while everyone else was a "we". And then he had practically insinuated that he hated her, too. He could see a scowl forming in her face and she turned away abruptly. This was going downhill fast, especially as he was feeling the exact opposite of what she believed he had just told her.

"Sharon, I didn't mean-" he began clumsily but she just held up at hand, calm and collected as usual.

"Don't worry, Andy. I know how this works." She gave him a smirk that looked almost convincing. He looked after her as she walked over towards Martinez and placed her hand on his shoulder while she talked to him. He had seen her with her team before and he had always noticed how different she was around them, but today it stung. Somehow her being in IA had never been an issue between them until now. Actually, it had only added to the fun, as they had known each other for a long time. She had investigated him more often over the years than any other officer and along the line she must have developed a certain fondness of him. At first he'd hated her with a vengeance, then he had found himself enjoying their banter and her subtle sense of humor and at some point he'd become unable to remove his eyes from her legs and had to push his hands into his pockets to keep them from developing a will of their own.

There were many rumors flying around about Sharon Raydor, most of them scandalous and completely untrue. Some swore that she made it a habit to sleep with younger officers which he knew had to be untrue as Sharon was far too concerned about rules and appearances for that. Others said that she was happily married with kids, which was also far from the truth. While she was still married, she had been legally separated for years and her two children were both away at college. The truth was, he had only learned these details after they had started sleeping with each other, as she kept her private life completely under wraps professionally.

Their banter had slowly turned into flirtation and he had been amazed at her ability to make him hot with a simple low hum or a strategically placed hand on his arm when saying something inconsequential. Then, however, it had taken something as cliché and antiquated as the annual policemen's ball to finally ignite the sparks between them. He'd only watched her from afar that night in her very simple but also very stunning little black dress. He liked to think that she didn't exactly dress to impress. She just did. The dress was short for her, leaving at least six inches of bare thigh above her knees and the neckline was straight, but her cleavage was covered only by a sheer black stretch that, in the right light, didn't leave that much to the imagination. Andy had considered hitting on her but then discarded the idea because he feared that she wouldn't like it.

Then fate or mutual fatigue had brought them together as she'd been waiting outside for her cab when he stepped out to drive home. He had complimented her on the dress, she'd thrown her hair back and somehow his hand had landed on her thigh on their way towards his house on the way to which he had actually meant to drop her off at her apartment. Somehow there hadn't been a question as to whether they would have sex. It had just happened like that. Andy was still confused that she went along with it so willingly. Fraternization rules didn't exactly apply to them as they were far enough removed from each other in the LAPD, but considering his rich history of disciplinary offenses, they could be sure to be frowned upon. But apparently Sharon Raydor didn't mind going against policy if no one else knew about it. It was a fact Andy found pretty sexy and unexpected.

"Does she look ruffled or what?" Provenza had appeared next to him.

"What do you mean?" Andy asked crankily. As greatly appreciated as his best friend's presence usually was, he was annoying him today. Or maybe he was just annoyed because of Sharon and needed an outlet.

"I mean I bet she just came from a lover's house. Did you see her skirt? I'll be damned if that wasn't a telltale stain at the hem."

Andy swallowed and then waved Provenza off. "Come on. The Wicked Witch? That's just gross."

Badmouthing her still came to him surprisingly easy and his acting abilities were rewarded with a chuckle from Provenza.

"Yeah, you're probably right. I, for one, wouldn't touch her with a ten feet pole."

"Oh god, me neither," Andy grumbled, his hands in his pockets as he watched Martinez hold the car door for Sharon.

"He would tap that, though," Provenza commented dryly, sending a shiver down Andy's spine.

"Now, come on. Let's find out who wanted to kick Raydor off the streets and do us all a favor." Provenza went back to the scene, leaving Andy to look after the car. Something was very wrong here and not just the tempered-with car. Something unwelcome was beginning to stir inside him and he couldn't admit to himself, yet, what this severe bout of jealousy might mean.


	2. Two

**T W O**

**A/N: **I changed the rating on this one. For reasons. ;-) Sorry for not updating for such a long time! I promise to be better!

The pointed look at her watch was the last straw and made Andy explode before Provenza even had a chance to think of a scathing remark. She hardly flinched when he began to yell at her at the top of his voice, all of his frustrations having piled up inside him to be released at this precise moment in the form of a string of complaints directed at her smug, smooth face. God, sometimes he hated the way she was capable of emptying her features of any kind of emotion. He hated how all her expression retained was smugness, arrogance and just the faintest hint of a small, condescending smile. She had no right to be like this; he hadn't exactly expected her to turn into a quivering, anxious mess, clinging to him for comfort, but she had no right to be this together, fearless even. And annoyed. Annoyed by the way he and Provenza had been ordered to look into her case. Without intending it, she had separated them from their team which was busy solving a real major crime while they had to investigate Sharon's cut brakes on Pope's orders. Like everyone else, the Chief wasn't especially fond of Sharon, but when one of their own was targeted, measures had to be taken. If only to uphold the fragile equilibrium that was the force's inner workings.

"Can you try and be a little more cooperative, Raydor?" Her last name rolled off his lips as easily as her first ever had. He had no problem hating her in a professional context and a part of him was glad that he still could. It seemed that Captain Raydor and Sharon were two completely different people. One cold and calculating and infuriating, one hot and devoted and desirable. She crossed her arms and pursed her lips, the fabric of her black blazer hugging her curves and suddenly Andy had difficulties separating the two characters again. He shouldn't be thinking of what was underneath her work attire, shouldn't know every inch of Captain Raydor's skin by heart. Most of all, he shouldn't be so damn worried about her.

"I am being cooperative." Those little pauses while she spoke, the way she dragged out certain words had become almost alien to him. When they were alone, her voice was a soft, low drawl. Easy to listen to and intimate enough to relax. "I went through my files this morning and nothing stood out. That is why I brought them." She gestured calmly towards the two boxes on the table behind her. "I thought you might want to have a look, see whether I've missed something."

Andy's anger was cooling down now, leaving him with an emptiness whose cause he was unable to fathom. That woman was like a brick wall and it frustrated him to no end.

"Well, well," Provenza said, maybe sensing the deeper, more personal discord between the other two. "I'll have a look. And before you two rip each other to shreds: I'll call the garage and find out whether those brakes were really cut. Maybe it was all just an accident and we can call this off altogether."

He shot Andy a warning glare that seemed to be meant to remind him to stay professional. Having Provenza of all people upbraid him about lack of professional conduct felt scathing and Andy dropped his arms, feeling forsaken by everyone who was important to him.

"So you two cool it off while I'll have a look." Provenza turned towards the door, one of the boxes in both hands, then turned around with one of his famous tilts of the head. "And by the way, Captain, Andy is right. You should try and be a little less arrogant about this because if you hadn't been so damn lucky, your body would be shattered at the foot of some cliff by now and this would be a _real_ major crime." He walked out and slammed the door behind him before Sharon could retaliate which left the two of them facing each other in the now empty conference room.

It was the first time they were on their own at work since their affair had started. They hadn't seen much of each other here, fortunately, over the past few months. Now, with Provenza absent, Flynn felt the full onslaught of his own emotions and tried to cling to the elusive rest of rationality that still prevailed. He honestly had no idea whether he wanted to protect her or yell at her again so, his shoulders slumping, he opened his palms in a gesture of defeat.

"I shouldn't have yelled at you. Sorry."

He hoped that she would lower her guard now, that her face would adopt the soft and familiar expression she wore when she was sitting on his sofa, legs pulled up under her body, long elegant fingers playing with a glass of red wine. Instead she turned around towards the second box that Provenza had left behind, straightening out the files without another word. Andy's anger flared up again almost instantly. He wasn't sure why, but he wanted to break down her barriers, see at least a little emotion seeping through. He wanted to comfort her and tell her that they would find the bastard who had tried to do this to her. He wanted to keep her safe and for her to know that he was the one who was willing and able to protect her. At the same time, he didn't want to ponder his own motives for wanting to do just that, worried that he would find something inside himself that he didn't want to be there. The woman confused him and he reacted to that confusion the only way he knew how.

His anger didn't seem to faze her at all but he could see the faintest hint of surprise on her unnaturally schooled features when he closed in on her and placed his hand on her hip. It filled him with a wild sense of triumph to see her just a little bit off-balance. Without ever having stated it explicitly, they both knew that touching was off-limits at work. Even using each other's first names was forbidden, but some time during this morning's frustrating dealings with Captain Raydor, Andy had pushed himself over the edge.

Her gaze hardened when he stepped even closer and slid his hand onto her back to be able to pull her into him if he chose to. She might be able to push him away on an emotional level, but when it came to the physical side, he was taller and stronger. Not that he would ever use that against her, but it felt good to tower over her like that, to have some advantage whatsoever.

"I want you. Now," he said, feeling foolish even while he was saying it. It was his immature reaction to her rejection on an emotional level. He wanted so badly to connect with her that he chose to deal with this on the only level he could ever be close to her.

"Not at the office." It almost sounded like a bark, but he could feel her muscles harden underneath his hands and he knew that this what not an uncomfortable kind of tension. He knew when to stop, but this was not the moment just yet. She would put him in his place if she really wanted to, but until then he wouldn't give up. He moved closer to her, conscious of the table right behind her. If she wanted to escape him, she would have to take a step aside and they both knew that he would let her go if she chose to evade him. But she remained still, both hands holding on to the edge of the table behind her. There was a moment of silence during which they just stared at each other then she reached out with one hand and ran it down his chest until it cam to rest on his belt buckle.

"Lock the door," she said hoarsely.

This was still Captain Raydor. The hard edge to her voice was there right along with the facial expression that allowed for nothing but spitefulness or teasing and he found it more arousing than he'd ever thought possible. Even though this had been an attempt to take control and she had turned it right around, dominating him once again, he didn't mind. When he returned from turning the key and making sure all the blinds were drawn, he pushed her skirt up immediately. They didn't have time for anything else. Right now Provenza probably thought that they were caught up in a shouting match, but he wouldn't be fooled forever and he would probably come back to break up their presumed conflict sooner or later. Andy unbuttoned her blazer and pulled her blouse out of her skirt to be able to run his hand across her bare stomach while his other was assisting hers with his belt. It felt weird to be standing here in his business clothes and the fact that she allowed him to do this at work should have alerted him right there and then that something was very wrong with her. In retrospect, he would realize that she had fooled him perfectly, that she was a lot more shaken than she let on, but in the heat of the moment he didn't consider it. He knew her too well to not be able to see through her facade, but his powerful anger that had turned into equally strong arousal prohibited him from thinking it through, from acknowledging the fact that nothing added up.

One of her legs around his torso, she rocked against him, steadying herself with one hand against the tabletop and one holding on to his on her hip, nails digging into his skin. He bent over her and thrust into her hard, eliciting a moan from her as he pulled out of her and thrust back in again a lot more forcefully than before. He changed his angle slightly, making her groan in pleasure every time he hit home. He wanted to look into her eyes but they were closed, making him miss the pure abandon he could usually see there.

His nerves were tingling. He knew that this was wrong. They shouldn't be doing it at the office, he shouldn't have her on a conference table, still fully dressed and moaning loudly. Anyone could overhear, anyone could try to enter the room and find the door locked, but it was too late to go back. His thrusts became faster and he knew that he was about to come although Sharon clearly wasn't there yet. He slowed down, stroking her breasts through the fabric of her clothes, massaging her thigh with his fingers, murmuring into her ear about how he'd always wanted to take her inside the office. He reached down and teased her while he slowly slid in and out of her and felt a sense of accomplishment and, curiously, relief when her body began to vibrate under his fingertips. He came first, still, having to hold on to the table and to her with the force of his orgasm, biting her neck hard to stifle his sounds of pleasure. She arched into him and came, too, holding on to his shoulders, shivering without making a sound at all.

The moment after was not as glorious as he had expected. He heard her ragged breath and felt her body shifting under his. She wanted to get away, he realized. She wasn't comfortable with this anymore as soon as the arousal had worn off. He drew back and ran a thumb down her cheek but she didn't lean into the touch.

"I need to clean up," she said, already tugging at her clothes and he stepped back to allow her to slide off the table. The door was unlocked with a forceful turn of her hand and she was out without looking back at him. He barely had enough time to readjust his clothes and catch his breath before Provenza sauntered into the room.

"Raydor looked pretty flustered there. Did you give her a hard time?"

Provenza, who usually picked up on anything pretty quickly, was absolutely clueless and his question - an unintended double entendre - made Andy laugh out loud. He could tell that his partner was irritated by his barking laughter, but somehow it dissolved something inside him. He answered as soon as he had finally managed to catch his breath.

"Yeah, I guess we're okay now. She's stubborn, you know."

Provenza snorted. "That and scared out of her mind."

"How can you tell?" Andy asked, truly surprised. Even he, who knew Provenza better than anyone, kept forgetting that he was a lot more perceptive than he let on.

"Come on, Andy. It was fairly obvious. No little waves, no superior smirks... She's barely holding it together. One could almost feel sorry for her. Anyway... care for some lunch?"

Andy was stunned. Provenza was right. In retrospect, the signs had been there and he hadn't even noticed. Wasn't he the one who was supposed to know her? Why had he let himself be fooled by her act?

"Yeah, lunch," he murmured. "Sounds good."

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Coming over unannounced was off-limits. She'd never said as much; it was just the way it had come to be. One of them would call, mostly him out of sheer habit, and then they would meet up wherever was more convenient. Most of the time at his place, as he was the more devoted cook and she didn't like it when he disturbed the order in her kitchen. That was one of the reasons why Andy had no idea how exactly he'd wound up in front of her house, much less her apartment door. She stood in the doorway, half-empty glass of white wine in hand, her gaze questioning. Not expecting company, she was dressed in yoga pants and a white tank top that did not leave it a secret that she was not wearing a bra. She followed his gaze and wrapped her gray cardigan more tightly around her upper body, taking a sip of wine. He noticed that she wasn't wearing make-up and found that the absence of her usual dark eyeshadow and black kajal line made her look completely different. Not older, surprisingly, just softer. The same went for her casual outfit which she clearly didn't feel comfortable facing him in. He found her uneasiness amusing as she had no problem being naked around him. Why would she feel self-conscious wearing comfortable clothes? Not to mention tight ones that showed off her curves? He wasn't ever sure whether she was dressing up for him or not. He could tell with most women. Skirts were shorter, tops tighter when they wanted to impress. With Sharon it was impossible to tell whether she was wearing an elegant dress to make him notice the way it hugged her hips or whether she just found it tasteful. It bugged him as much as it fascinated him.

"Now..." She took a sip of her wine. "What are you doing here?"

The signs were subtle and this morning he had missed them. Now he didn't. Her hand was shaking very slightly and she wet her lips more often than usual, her free hand always returning to her already mussed-up hair. Sharon was nervous. Maybe even afraid.

"I just came by to update you on what Provenza and I found out after you walked out this morning," he said, skipping the part where he pretended to have been in the area because they both knew that – geographically - that was absolutely ridiculous.

"It's past midnight," she pointed out.

"You're still awake," he retorted. "but maybe I should have called ahead."

But then she would have probably not picked up the phone or even asked him not to come by which was exactly why he hadn't called.

"It's okay," she said a little more softly. "Come on in."

She stepped aside and allowed him to wander into her living-room where a couple of vanilla- scented candles were lit on the coffee table, right next to her service weapon and an almost empty bottle of wine.

"This is not a good combination," he pointed out, gesturing towards the display.

"Candles and wine?" she snapped. "Too romantic?"

Sullen little remarks like the one she'd just fired at him were uncharacteristic of her so he looked at her, eyebrows slightly raised. She took another sip of her wine, looking a little combative. The very slight flush in her cheeks indicated that she was on the verge of becoming tipsy. Strangely, it didn't worry him.

"Alcohol and guns," he growled. "And I am citing from my file here."

The faintest hint of a smile lit up her face as she sat down on the sofa. "That one time you were drunk on the job and accidentally discharged your weapon. You hit an already completely battered car but I still had to leave my sick five year old with my batty neighbor in the middle of the night, anyway."

"And how glad I was to see you," he mused, lowering himself down next to her. "Sorry for getting you out of bed back then."

She gave him the first genuine smile that evening and shrugged. "That was fifteen years ago. I guess it's okay now."

She was going through the glass of wine quickly, having almost finished it but he knew she didn't have an alcohol problem, so he was fully prepared to let her run with it if it made her feel better. She made no move to snuggle into him or show any other kind of affection but stared into the flickering flames of the candles for a moment instead.

"You were right," he repeated what Provenza had said this morning. "The brakes were cut. Looked like someone knew what they were doing. You were damn lucky that it happened where it happened. A mile on and you would have-"

She cut him off with sudden urgency. "I get it. Did you find any fingerprints?"

"Some on the hood. We'll have to run them against those of your mechanic. Other areas were wiped clean. You'll have to come down tomorrow for some more questions concerning where you park your car and who might have had access to it."

She nodded, staring into the distance for a moment. Then she set her now empty glass down and reached for the bottle.

"Did you have any problems with anyone recently?" Andy asked carefully. "I mean, does anyone come to mind who might hold an especially bad grudge?"

She looked at him and shook her head slowly. "I've been pondering that question for a while, believe me, but I've haven't come up with any names."

"Did you receive any other threats?"

She avoided his eyes and shrugged. "Maybe."

"Maybe?" he echoed incredulously. Sharon Raydor had a reputation for calling everything in even if the rulebook said to only in a distant footnote. Why would she hold back on something like this?

"Well, one of my tires was slashed last week. I thought it was just a prank."

He wondered why she hadn't told him. They had seen each other twice that week, after all. She was coming closer now and he felt her hot breath on his skin. Her mouth was the only way he'd been able to enjoy the taste of wine for a long time and he hungrily covered her lips with his, savoring every drop that still remained there. He could tell that she was slightly inebriated from the way she responded differently. She usually made him feel as if he had to convince her to deepen their kisses even though she often initiated them. Today she opened her mouth eagerly and pulled him closer at the same time. The smell of their earlier encounter was still lingering on her and he drank it in while taking advantage of the convenient fact that she wasn't wearing a bra, his hands roaming over her breasts.

They weren't in the habit of complimenting each other a lot, but today he wanted to say something to make her smile and to make up for his lack of empathy this morning. Usually he took comfort in the notion that there could be no way she didn't know how incredibly attractive he found every inch of her, but today he felt the need to make her hear it. He told her that she was beautiful in a low voice in the end, as if that would take the momentum away from it and she kissed him again in response, her hands on his neck. Before she could do anything else, he pulled back and caressed her cheek instead of trying to get her out of her clothes. She didn't say anything, didn't even look him in the eye but she didn't withdraw either.

In the beginning they'd never spend the night together. One of them had always gone home, now they sometimes did and sometimes didn't. She usually stayed over when it was late and left when it was still a reasonable hour; he found himself staying more often than not lately. Here on the couch there was no way to just fall asleep knowing that she wouldn't wake him to kick him out. She surprised him by getting up and reaching out a hand.

"Are you coming?" she asked.

"Course I am," he murmured into her temple and placed a soft, affectionate kiss there. Weirdly, kissing and touching after sex was okay while touching before always brought a little bit of awkwardness and was therefore usually avoided by both of them. For some reason he had broken that little rule today and he wasn't sure what she thought of it. He followed her into the bedroom, stripped to his boxers and t-shirt and slid under the covers while she padded into the bathroom. He liked the scent of her sheets that was all her plus something he had recently identified as her body lotion which smelled of vanilla laced with a muskier scent that he could not identify. She returned wearing her white top and panties and slid under the covers next to him, her leg smooth and cold against his whereas her cheek was still flushed with the effects of the wine when he pressed his against it. She tensed a little with surprise but didn't object when he wrapped an arm around her.

"I'm sorry for the way I acted this morning," he said, glad that he didn't have to look at her.

"What for?" she murmured, a little less than convincing.

"For not noticing that this is nagging at you." He knew that she couldn't deny it after tonight and so she just snorted.

"Maybe you should go." She turned around in his arms and looked at him, the veil back in her eyes. "I've had enough sex for today, so there's nothing to be gained."

Somehow he knew instinctively that she actually didn't want him to go. This was not a rejection but a test and he was determined to pass it with flying colors.

"So you're kicking me out now after I've made myself comfortable?" he asked. "I don't think so. Go to sleep."

She dropped her head onto the pillow and didn't object when he wrapped his arm back around her waist. He closed his eyes and felt the back of her forefinger lightly running down his cheek before she, too, drifted off to sleep.


End file.
